


Musical Works

by trustmeallnight



Category: NU'EST
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2020-05-19 11:26:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19356103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trustmeallnight/pseuds/trustmeallnight
Summary: stories based on the songs I listen towill be baekho-centered :))1. BaekMin2. JBaek3. OT5, Minhyun-centric4. Mainly BaekMin + JBaek/BaekRen/BaekRon5. BaekRen6. JBaek7. BaekMin





	1. "134340", BTS

**Author's Note:**

> I have a bad habit of writing too much and getting tired of writing one story :(( so i'll be forcing myself to write as short as i can by basing fics of my playlist :)) 
> 
> they will probably be very bad HAHA but it is fun <33 i need inspiration/prompts dammit
> 
> first one written during "134340" + BaekMin, angst

It’s been one year: one summer, spring, fall, and winter. Minhyu’s routine never strays. He works, eats, goes home, and sleeps. Besides the occasional invite from his friends to visit the nearby club, Minhyun’s home is his most frequent place.

 

Every single night, after he gets home, showers, and eats, his thoughts wrack his mind. It’s torture, aches his body to think about it. 

 

_ He is my sun. I am his Pluto _ .

 

Minhyun misses Dongho. He misses his scent, even after the man visited the gym at five in the morning and tried to crawl back into Minhyun’s bed, pouting for cuddles. He misses going out to every restaurant, cafe, or hole-in-the-wall that Dongho desperately wanted to try out. They always managed to turn out great.

 

Often, Minhyun cries at how he turned out. He never thought Dongho would leave him. He never thought that he’d ever be regarded with disinterest, that he’d have to watch on as the love of his life thrived while Minhyun slowly rotated throughout his own fucked up life, constantly thinking about the shorter man.

 

_ I followed him around in circles. He is my sun, and I am his forgotten planet. I used to be his shining star, and now I’m colder than winter has ever been _ .

 

Minhyun’s walking through the streets, head down as he walks to the store. He needs groceries for that week.

 

“Ah, hello, Minhyun,” the tall man freezes at the achingly familiar voice, “it’s been a long time.” Minhyun raises his head, meets the gaze of someone he’s spent nights mentally tearing himself over for. The blond gives him a shy smile. “How are you?”

 

Minhyun wants to answer, wants to say, “I’ve been miserable, fucking  _ depressing _ without you.” He wants to beg the shorter to take him back. Minhyun spots the arm wrapped around Dongho, freezes. 

 

The stranger clinging onto Dongho gives off a warm appearance, smile almost as bright as Dongho’s. 

 

_ Ah. I see. He’s found his own sun. _

 

Minhyun weakly smiles, can barely stand and utter the words, “I’m fine. I’m awfully busy right now, I’m sorry.” He almost chokes up as tears well up in his eyes. His head casts down again. “See you, Dongho.” He briskly pushes past the couple, can’t even stand to glance at their eyes again and get a reply.

 

He’s walking, sprinting,  _ running _ , past Dongho, past the man that he used to worship,  _ live _ for. He doesn’t ever want to look back at the single failure he’s made in his life. Minhyun doesn’t care if he’s wasting away his life living in black and white, doesn’t care if he can barely stand being in his own home at this point without thinking of the Dongho.

 

He’s running home, back to where he can’t see Dongho, can’t see the man wrapped around Dongho, can’t see anything but his own carpet, tears, and mistakes. He fucking misses Dongho so much.

 

_ I let go of you, I lost you. You erased me, you forgot me. The songs have stopped, you erased me, you forgot me. _


	2. "VVITH", NU'EST

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JBaek + fluff
> 
> Jonghyun thinks Dongho looks perfect no matter where and when.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You you you you  
> You you and I
> 
>  
> 
> this song is so cute :((

**_Morning_ **

 

 “Hello. . .” Jonghyun looks up as a small voice calls out from the entry of the kitchen. He snickers as Dongho walks in, hair disheveled and tangled from his rough sleep. He wants to reach up and pat down the mess, run his fingers through the strands.

 

Dongho pouts as he sees the leader laugh at his messy state. Jonghyun thinks it’s cute, the small frown somehow fitting the large man. He resembles a teddy bear.

 

Jonghyun lifts up a cup of coffee, heavily doused with sugar and cream for the man’s tastes, and offers it to Dongho. He gives a small smile, encouraging the man to get ready.

 

As Dongho sips the cup, Jonghyun thinks that Dongho looks good even without makeup, eyes bleary and body slacking.

 

_You’re pretty even when you’re not made up._

 

**_**_Afternoon_ ** _ **

 

They’re walking along the street, the buildings lined with signs of a variety of stores. Jonghyun spots cafes, clothes, beauty products, anything anyone would ever want. 

 

Jonghyun glances to the man stuck to his side, hands intertwined and locked together.

 

He’s almost breathless as he gazes at Dongho. The blond’s staring ahead, amazed at the various restaurants. His eyes gleam, excitement rocking his body and making him bounce on his heels. Even his scarf makes him look adorable, how it snuggles up to his neck and covers half his face, like a child.

 

_Everything looks good on you._

 

Dongho catches Jonghyun’s gaze, and the brunet feels the large hands wrapped around his own squeeze down.

 

“How does this jacket look?” Dongho innocently asks, “It's not too small, right?” Jonghyun quirks his head, and frowns. He sorely hates when Dongho asks him those questions. He should know that Jonghyun thinks anything and everything looks good on him. How could he possibly answer Dongho?

 

“I wish you would stop asking me these questions.” Jonghyun bluntly states. Dongho frowns, huffs like a baby, and turns back to the shops. Even when he’s mad, Jonghyun can’t help but smile brightly. Dongho’s so cute, he can’t help it.

 

_Why would you ask, you’re pretty even when you don’t ask._

 

**_**_Night_ ** _ **

 

 _You and I_.

 

Jonghyun lies in bed, phone glued to his face as he waits for Dongho to finish in the bathroom. The man usually takes quick showers, but Jonghyun still becomes impatient. He’s tired, ready to crash for the night, and he wants to see the man before he falls into his dreams.

 

He hears the door creak open, and he lies his phone down on the nightstand. He glances up to greet Dongho, hair damp and face bare. 

 

_You’re so pretty I want to die._

 

Dongho turns pink, hands coming up to cover his face.

 

“Yah, stop staring at me,” Dongho’s embarrassing squeaky voice comes out, “I look disgusting, and you look like a creep” The large man shuffles to the bed, drops down heavily onto the sheets, and slips into the covers in a fluid motion. His wide back faces Jonghyun.

 

He _really_ wants to tease Dongho, keep staring, poking, admiring the man’s handsome, make-up free face. Jonghyun drapes himself over the large back. He meets Dongho’s wide eyes. Jonghyun can’t help the cheesy grin that comes up.

 

“You know, Dongho. I think you still look amazing.” Dongho pushes him away, squishes himself into a ball. Jonghyun laughs. “You always look amazing.”

 

Jonghyun reaches over Dongho to turn off the lamp, enveloping the room into darkness. He throws a careless arm over the ball that is Dongho, and tries to cuddle him to sleep. He can only grin to himself when he feels the body next to him relax and grab at his hand.

 

Honestly, he means every single word when he says he thinks the man in his arms is beautiful, gorgeous, _adorable_. Fortunately, he looks even better when wrapped around Jonghyun.

 

_Everything looks good on you. You look good with me._


	3. "Segno", NU'EST

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OT5 (Platonic or Romantic) + Angst + Fluff
> 
> Minhyun misses NU'EST W.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know OT5 NU'EST has been back together for a while, but I joined the fandom during Bet Bet so I never got to experience the pain of Minhyun being away from them :((

****

Minhyun blinks as he idly gazes around his surroundings. The harsh lights and neon colors swim around his vision, blinding him in every direction. He holds an arm up to his face, flinching at the sights.

 

Minhyun had fun, he admits, when he watched the members get rowdier by the hour. He watched as his friends ate, sang, laughed at their own jokes. It was fun, but Minhyun still found himself out on his own, members forgotten inside the restaurant. The bite of cold air against his face felt clearer rather than the stuffy air of the room.  


 

He lowered the arm covering his face, braving the neon mess once again. He turned his gaze up to the darkness above the high buildings. 

 

If Minhyun concentrated on the stars dimly hanging in the night, he could forget the lights, could forget Tokyo, could maybe forget  _ Wanna One _ .

 

Minhyun squinted his eyes, tears trickling up as he lost himself in the sky. He was stuck in paradise, an idol in the biggest boy group in Korea on a world tour. He’s in fucking  _ Tokyo _ , crying while staring straight up at the sky.

 

He wants to call them, wants to reach for them through the night, have the stars fly him off to Korea. His phone stays untouched in his pocket.  


 

_ Round and round, to that place. The place that became my reason. _

 

He wants to watch them eat at the table. He wants to watch them race each other, each one fighting for the first right to use the bathroom. He wants to trip over the laundry left in the middle of the kitchen, yell at whoever walks in first to just _clean the damn place_.  


 

_ Round and round, to that place. The place that became my beginning. _

 

His mind is spinning in circles, round and round as he cycles through what he misses. The constant barrage of memories are overwhelming him, crashing into his heart. Dongho, Minki, Jonghyun, Aaron, Dongho, Minki, Jonghyun, Aaron, Dongho, Minki, Jong--

 

Minhyun blinks.

 

He’s standing before a faceless crowd, lit up only by white. Daniel’s voice echoes faintly outside his consciousness. He’s thanking someone for coming to see them. Him.  


 

He can only stare wide-eyed at the sea of black and white. He’s turning towards Jihoon, wanting to ask where he is, who are these people, how did he come here.

 

“Thank you for supporting Wanna One. We love you all and we appreciate your coming out here,” the cheery voice makes Minhyun understand. 

 

He turns back to the crowd, plasters on the widest smile he can manage, and bows. He bows for the fans who came here, bows to respect his supporters. 

 

He bows to silently apologize to his home, to  _ them _ as well. He hopes they're watching.  


 

He can only scrunch up his face to prevent a sob from ripping out his throat.

 

_ Throughout the far and wide journey I took to find you, you were always in my heart.  _

 

Jakarta, Hong Kong, Bangkok, Taipei, Chicago, Manila. Minhyun travels, explores, pours his heart out to the thousands who scream for him, cheer for him,  _ love him _ . Minhyun keeps them close to his heart, can only send out hearts and give his all in his performances.

 

He still thinks of them. It chokes him up, but he bites his lip, schools his face, and slips onto the stage. He holds onto whoever follows him, pretends he’s leading Minki to practice, pretends he’s pulling Dongho to perform an encore.

 

_ Now, my journey, I'll end it and go back. _

 

Minhyun’s staring at each of their faces. Daehwi’s sobbing, Jaehwan’s gripping onto his bags, face drooping, and Minhyun. . . Minhyun’s already left the dorm. 

 

The buildings are a blur, and the driver’s voice screeches like static. He turns his head to the window, and stares at the sky. It’s clear.

 

He’s hauling his bags on his shoulders, stares at the building. 

 

He’s unlocking the door, the same motions punching in the password and pushing himself through the door.

 

He stares at each of their faces, bright wide-eyed smiles lit up by the candles of the cake they hold. He crumples, the weight of the bags finally pulling him down.

 

Minhyun stares at the floor, can only lay there and gasp in breaths as his members jump on him, hauling him into a back-crushing embrace.

 

He’s fucking  _ home _ .

 

_ I’m turning back to you. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a twitter @ahriesbk hehe<3


	4. "Love Paint (every afternoon)", NU'EST

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mainly BaekMin + JBaek/BaekRon/BaekRen + (tiny bit) angsty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not sure how many times i listened to love paint on repeat to write this, but it was well worth it. i absolutely adore canvas's concept, so i adapted it into a royal concept :)) who doesn't love charming prince baekho? (did i mention i'm so in love with this concept?) the underlined titles are from nu'est's album (they are so beautiful) and also represent minhyun's paintings *w*
> 
> i'm @ifwesegno on twitter ~^ v ^~ love u

Minhyun paints. He paints flowers, paints exotic carpets, paints the moon hung up next to the stars, paints whatever he wants to ingrain into his mind forever.

 

He’s thankful for his grace, finesse, as he eases the brush against the soft parchment laid against a worn-out easel. He’s thankful for his never-ending rows of colors, each one flowing and blending into one piece. 

 

Red. Ruby. Blue. Sky. Pink. Violet. A dip of his brush brings them together, creates a cohesive work.

 

_ A harmonious color _ .

 

He’s especially thankful for his single muse. 

 

Minhyun’s thankful to exist in this lifetime, using his passion,  _ heart and soul _ , painting the one subject he’d memorialize into all art mediums for eternity.

 

He sits on a stool, captures the prince’s face as he rises out of bed. His fingers don’t miss the way the soft sunlight shines over the pale, sculpted body. Each crevice and muscle rippling under skin creates shadows, and Minhyun smears black onto the creamy tan.

 

Minhyun keeps his eyes on the easel, eases brushes into pots and captures the bleary haze in Dongho’s eyes as he cranes his head to look up at Minhyun. 

 

His hair requires a dark, muted black. Minhyun lines the royal’s lips with cherry blossom pink.

That is how Minhyun, the personal artist to prince Kang Dongho, presents the noble being when the sun breaks through the night.

 

_ “Daybreak” _

 

Minhyun settles into the cushioned stool, observes as the prince is tended to by the tailor. He admires how Minki reflects his own elegance, nimble fingers dancing along the lines of Dongho’s body as he dresses the man.

 

He appreciates the art that Minki creates. Inspiration swirls around him, fills his space as he messes up his brushes once more.

 

Minhyun captures intimacy, paints in bright greens, blues, oranges of how Minki wraps soft fabric around Dongho. Silk envelops the man’s broad shoulders, firm arms, slim waist. Cotton allows the royal’s bare legs to breathe, move freely around. 

 

Minhyun sucks in a quiet breath as lace encloses around Dongho’s delicate throat. He knows the fabric slithers around his chest, creates a web of sensuality under the silk that Minhyun  _ wants _ to paint. 

 

Minhyun simply watches, chooses not to share the way Minki brushes his fingers over Dongho’s jaw, through his dark strands, around the quivering thighs. He halts his brush, his body, as Minki gently ties the complex shirt together while pressing tender kisses to Dongho’s collarbone. 

 

Minhyun empathises as he watches Minki trail imperial red lips over creamy skin and glossy, shiny silk. He empathises as another artist combines passion and pleasure into a single meld, pouring out onto and into the alluring prince.

 

The session ends, and Minhyun’s satisfied with the vivid, intense piece. 

 

“ _ one morning” _

 

Minhyun carries his tools down flights of stairs, through grand, looming hallways, and along velvet rugs to shadow Dongho.

 

Minhyun’s settling down the last tone of beige and picking up his brush when he catches Dongho already immersed in the lecture.

 

The orange of the sun bites its way through the glass pane into the oak library. The light casts a harsh hue onto the pages of the book Dongho’s concentrating on-- “The History of Monarchy”. 

 

Minhyun appreciates the soft, gentle features of professor Aaron that brings a fluid aspect to the sharp colors of the sky.

 

Aaron speaks low and calm, a soothing tone that guides Minhyun’s hand to draw wide, long strokes onto the parchment. The artist welcomes the control that Aaron commands in the studious environment.

 

Compared to the hazy mood that Dongho lived in upstairs, Minhyun notices the sharp keenness that suddenly envelops the prince’s behavior. Dongho focuses russet eyes on complex words, burns holes through the blackboard as Aaron writes down dates, terms, phrases.

 

Even Minhyun’s mind spins dizzily at the amount of knowledge that consumes the room.

 

He turns to the easel, observes and nitpicks the neutral browns and beiges of the piece. The shelves, the book covers, the floors, Aaron’s hair,  _ clothes _ , push brown onto the paper. 

 

It seems the library and Aaron himself have emptied Minhyun’s set of browns.

 

As Minhyun slathers varnish over the third Dongho that day, he misses the slow caress of Aaron’s hands over Dongho’s head, fingers smoothing down tussled coal-black strands. He misses the deep, reaching presses of Aaron’s fingertips on Dongho’s shoulders. He doesn’t miss the stifling gasps of the crown prince.

 

He smiles, catches himself in the gloss with a fondness he doesn’t want to capture in any painting.

 

Minhyun packs up, tows his kit away, and leaves, sparing a glance over his shoulder into the warm, sun-lit library.

 

He can only close the door quietly as Aaron traps Dongho’s jaw between his fingers, eyes boring into Dongho’s and lips parted.

 

Minhyun reaches his art room, places the painting down, and leaves, always in search of a newer, better side of Dongho.

 

The immortalized Aaron and Dongho sit next to Minki and Dongho, Minhyun’s weathered easel, and the bright, vermillion sky.

 

_ “every afternoon” _

 

Minhyun bumps into a quick body, knocking his supplies onto the floor. He’s quick to snatch up his pristine brushes, brow furrowed and lips downcast. He snaps his head up; his eyes soften.

 

Dongho stands, apologetic and already bending down to lift up the artist. Minhyun brushes off the man. The crown prince is too delicate, too important, to help him.

 

Minhyun recovers, body straightening and supplies tucked into his arm, ready to observe the next scene.

 

He’s unsurprised to be led to the gardens, barely flinches as he spots a figure posing in the veranda. He can only sit himself down on the stone bench, white roses and vines slithering around the sides.

 

Out of all of Dongho’s accompaniments, Minhyun would have to say Jonghyun is the most difficult to capture. 

 

The knight of Kang doesn’t leave anyone underestimating him. The brunet is nimble, agile, flexible, firm, full of wit and reflex. 

 

Minhyun understands why Dongho admires the man so much, why Dongho insists on reserving his evenings for the knight. The artist can only follow the prince, can only watch, listen, and trace the sparring in front of him.

 

It’s brutal,  _ rough _ , how Jonghyun works Dongho to his bones, persuades the royal to fight until he buckles. The knight forces the prince to his knees, and Minhyun can only stare as his strongest muse succumbs to Jonghyun. 

 

Minhyun refuses to belittle the prince. He grits his teeth, rewrites the present through his strokes of color. He replaces quick jabs to ribs, swift kicks to knees, iron-strong headlocks into a flowing dance. 

 

The artist transforms his world, Dongho’s world, through his art.

 

Minhyun’s Dongho waltzes throughout the veranda, arms elegantly folded and clinging to the admirable knight. There’s only grace, refinement, dignity, framed within the forest green leaves and snow white roses. 

 

For Dongho, Minhyun would erase his own reality and paint an illusion, a breathtaking dream. Minhyun rapidly dips his brush into his paints, spreads color into the sheet, creates a masterpiece for  _ his  _ prince.

 

Minhyun’s last stroke leaves him rapidly standing up, tools forgotten as he rushes the painting to his room. His illusion, mirage, is breaking as blood red stains knuckles and the smooth wood of the veranda.

 

He doesn’t want to watch Dongho stare up at Jonghyun with admiration, honor,  _ respect _ . He wants to pretend Jonghyun isn’t the one who embraces Dongho softly, cleans his wounds, presses sweet kisses to his limbs. He doesn’t want to believe Jonghyun is the only one who can make the royal flush, make  _ Kang Dongho  _ of the infamous Kang bloodline tremble under strong grasps.

 

The single painting of the pair in the veranda is the only one stored up on a spare easel, sheet thrown over its body. It’s as if Minhyun’s trying to smother his own creation.

 

_ “evening by evening” _

 

Minhyun sits in his room, chair facing the glass pane. His easel is planted before him, his brushes stuck in his grasp. Day and night, Minhyun can’t seem to quench his passion.

 

Minhyun’s stored away his oranges, his reds, as he gazes out at the night sky. He observes the clear dark space, dotted only by twinkling specks of white. The moon hangs, a thin crescent with the darkness threatening to engulf its light.

 

Minhyun’s rigorous, nonstop strokes have disappeared along with the sun. He sits quietly on his stool, fingers languidly moving on the canvas as slow as the night moves on.

 

The longer he sits, the more he wishes morning would come. He desires the lemon chiffon of the early morning sun that hits Dongho’s face at the most magnificent angle. He craves the tangerine orange of the sunset that overwhelms Dongho’s body as he picks flowers out the garden. He enjoys the way the light brightens up Dongho, just as Dongho brightens up his work.

 

He longingly stares at the sky. Now, there is no Dongho, no light, to grace his canvas when he encounters moonlight. 

 

He sits alone in his room and his own paintings, the only presence to not feature next to Dongho in any creations. He can never grace Dongho with perfection, it seems. It’s fitting.

 

He sets down the brush, fingers itching to discard the ruined work.

 

A creak from his door brings his attention to its direction. A jet black head pops through the crack.

 

 “Minhyunnie, may I join you? I can’t sleep yet,” a shy smile comes from the noble, “I thought we could talk, you know.” The prince steps clearly into the room

 

Minhyun gapes. Smiles. Softens. 

 

“Yes,” he offers a seat next to him, “I’d like that.”

 

From daybreak to morning to afternoon to evening, Minhyun observes the love of his life fall in love with others. He silently endures as Minki builds up Dongho, watches as Aaron completes his character, suffers as Jonghyun breaks down the prince into delicate bits.

 

He can only be glad when he can simply  _ be _ with Dongho, sit shoulder to shoulder as equals. They are simply Dongho and Minhyun, two souls sitting in silence as the night envelops the two. It may be the greatest creation he’s ever made.

 

Simply put, Minhyun paints. He loves painting. He loves Dongho. 

 

_ From the East, we become a Harmonious Color. _

 

_ “a starlit night” _


	5. "Spring Breeze", Wanna One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BaekRen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spring breeze is very sad yet hopeful at the same time??? very nice to listen to
> 
> this time, ren is an angel. dongho is someone who is physically stuck in a field that overlooks the ocean (a ghost?? IDK). the concept came out of nowhere and has no explanation for it :)) i jsut think the scenery fits the song hahaahahh since open nature is so so so beautiful and feels so isolating, like how dongho feels

Dongho stares over the edge, toes wiggling on the pebbles that poke at his feet. He could step over the space if he wanted to. He raises a leg, dangles it in the air, wiggles it around testingly.

 

As he gazes down at the ocean, rich blue waves splashing onto the sturdy rocks below, he smiles. He closes his eyes. 

 

The wind whips through his hair, bringing a fresh breeze to settle against his face. He steps forward. He lets his body relax against gravity, simply fall.

 

“Yah!” the blond’s wrapped in a tight embrace, “are you crazy?” Dongho blinks open his eyes. He only giggles at the sight of a furious, beautiful face. “What are you doing?”

 

Dongho lets his body hang limp, arms resting loosely around the angel’s neck. He trusts the arms wrapping around his waist, trusts the wings bearing the weight of them. He knows the ocean lies right below him, the waves luring him into their embrace.  


 

“No,” Dongho drawls lazily, fingers brushing and stroking against soft pale skin, “just bored.” He smiles up at the delicate figure, takes in the angel’s wide doe eyes and parted ruby mouth. 

 

Dongho, the man stuck in the most beautiful place in the world, meets Minki, the most beautiful angel he’s ever met while he's help up in the sky.  


 

_ After you and I met, we became a miracle. _

 

Dongho sits in the field, knees drawn up to his chest. He’s plucking idly at the strands of grass surrounding him. He spots a lone flower, a single white daisy, and crawls up to it. He reaches a finger out, strokes the fragile petals, and picks it right out of the ground.

 

Dongho stares at its bright yellow center, smiles as he’s reminded of the sun that shines hot above his head. He raises his arm, the flower held up in the sky. It’s an offering.

 

A soft  _ flap _ rings through the stifling heat, and the daisy loses its weight in Dongho’s grasp. 

 

Dongho raises his head, meets the curious, playful eyes of Minki.

 

“Hi.” 

 

Dongho grins, face split in what seems like forever.

 

“Hi.”

 

The angel settles down next to Dongo, extends his wings out to engulf Dongho. It’s awfully hot, Minki’s wings heating him up more than the summer heat does. The gentle face turns to Dongho.

 

“Did you miss me?” Dongho chooses to stare out at the horizon, watches the blue sky meet the blue sea. The water’s calm, and even the waves are lethargic from the heat.

 

“Yeah. I did.” He feels a small hand rest over his. He turns over his palm, allows his fingers to lace through the pale ones. 

 

_ The warm memories we felt together, those smiles, those tears _ .

 

_ I want to be with you forever. _

 

Dongho watches as the tall sunflowers begin to wilt, watches as the grass disappears inch by inch into the soil. His toes start wiggling into cold dirt and jagged rocks instead of flesh flora.

 

A stinging gust hits his face. He flinches.

 

He finally ralizes what he can't do.

 

He can’t do anything. He can’t run away anywhere. He’s unable to follow the chirping birds that fly off to unknown places. He’s unable to dive into the ocean just a mere drop from the cliff he resides on, unable to join the fish that swim off to warmer waters.

 

As Dongho stands amongst dying land, he’s only reminded of his fate. He’s stuck here, stuck watching his home die for the season. Only he lives on.

 

_ You cover my empty heart, filling it with you. _

 

Dongho sits over the ledge, cold winter breeze already making its appearance. It messes up his hair, envelops his body in a seemingly permanent chill.

 

“Will you come see me again?” He asks the open sky. 

 

“I’ll always come, Dongho.” 

 

Dongho raises his head up, meets the glowing presence of the angel that stares down at him. He softens at the proclamation, secretly holds the statement close to his heart.

 

Even the winter winds can’t blow away what he wishes to hear every season.

 

He turns his head down to stare at the ocean again. The waves grow aggressive, reaching high into the sky and crashing into impenetrable rocks.

 

“I’ll wait, then.”

 

_ We’ll meet again when the spring breeze passes. _

 

Dongho sits through winter, lounges around the field of freezing dirt that becomes blanketed in snow. 

 

He plays with the snow. He creates snowballs, throws them over the cliff, watches as the ball arcs gracefully and drops down into the harsh waves. They disappear.

 

At times, he wants to follow them as well.

 

He squints up at the white sky. He wonders where Minki is in the world, wonders what it feels like to fly off into the vast space.

 

Dongho’s world can only contain himself, his field, his cliff, his ocean, but he wonders what Minki’s world looks like.

 

Other times, he wants to follow the beautiful, free angel.

 

As winter grudgingly walks through Dongho’s space, the man sits, stands, lies in snow. He grabs at snowflakes, smushes his face into piles of snow, sprinkles handfuls of snow into the ocean.

 

As winter passes into another year, Dongo pretends he’s happy, content,  _playful_ with his isolation.

 

His heart aches for spring to come instead.

 

_ I’ll smile brightly _

_ When the spring breeze passes _

 

The first blades of grass sprout near the edge. Dongho takes extra care not to step on them when he sits on the cliff and hangs his legs over the space.

 

The cold bite of the winter winds linger still, albeit less intense. Dongho feels cold still. He closes his eyes, tries to focus on the single ray of sunlight that peeks through the white blanket of clouds.

 

 _Flap._ _flap._

 

Dongho snaps an eye open, both eyes open, and twists his body up.

 

Minki stands there, aura ever so regal and graceful. His wings extend out, large feathers stretching to meet the sky. His face, ivory and marble, twists into a shining smile.

 

Dongho stumbles as he runs to the angel. He can barely catch his breath, gasping and choking as he rushes to the embrace of his only warmth.

 

The angel’s laugh tinkles like heaven’s bells as Dongho hides his face into the crook of a pale neck.

 

The blond feels arms raise up to wrap around him. Dongho believes that his world has already started to warm.

 

“I told you I’d come back, Dongho,” the angel’s throat rumbles as he speaks softly, “I’ll always come back for you, my sweet prince.”

 

Dongho can only sob pathetically as he clings onto the angel, clings onto his only one, clings onto his  _ forever _ .

 

_ I’ll hold you once more when the spring breeze passes. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @ifwesegno on twitter
> 
> let's talk about love, oh every day, talk about BAEKHO


	6. "Black And Blue", A.C.E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongho is Jonghyun's. Jonghyun is Dongho's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to write obsessive Jonghyun in love. The lyrics are perfect for this as well, woohoo. Stan A.C.E. :)
> 
> I'm so ready to see them at KCON LA sksk

_ Where are you looking? _

 

Jonghyun openly stares at Dongho. He tries to pierce through the man, get his attention through his eyes alone. 

 

He grits his teeth when the man refuses to acknowledge him. His nails dig into his palm as he clenches them. 

 

_ You’re turning away from me again _

 

Jonghyun whips his head straight to the object of Dongho’s rapt attention. 

 

Minhyun stands idly, hands fiddling with his water bottle as he tries to open it. Sweat drips from his hair, runs down smooth skin and sculpted features, and disappears down his chest. His lean body curves and twists with slight movements as he turns from foot to foot, relieving the aches of hours of practice.

 

The vocalist lifts a leg, mile-long, behind himself and stretches it towards the sky. The man stares towards the sky and groans at the relief. The long column of his neck stretches and flexes.

 

Jonghyun whips his head back to the infatuated vocalist. He sits frozen in his seat as his eyes bore heavily into Dongho.  He still never manages to look at Jonghyun for the rest of practice.  


 

_ You’re taking in something that’s not me _

 

Jonghyun’s tired of watching Dongho crawl pathetically after Minhyun. He’s sick to his stomach when he sees Dongho cling onto the taller man, smile up at him and laugh at his jokes.

 

He wants Dongho to himself. He wants the vocalist to look up into his own eyes, wants Dongho to hug his own arm tightly and laugh at  _ him _ . At Jonghyun  _ only _ . So, he decides.  


 

Jonghyun stands tall as the leader. He presides over the members when they need guidance, supposed to help all of them when he’s needed.

 

The leader decides he can only do his single job, his rightful responsibility, and help Dongho as he sees fit.

 

_ I want to hold you in my hands so you can’t escape _

 

He’s helping Dongho. He’s  _ fixing _ him. He’s shielding him from his troubles, building him up from the inside.

 

He wants to remind Dongho of who he is. 

 

He’s better than Minhyun. He can give better than Minhyun, take better than him.

 

He proves this to him every single day just by being there beside him, taking him in from head to toe.

 

_ Come into my darkness. _

 

“Tell me you want me,” he whispers into Dongho’s skin as he takes in the man’s scent. Soft lips meet soft skin as he trails his mouth over a valley of flesh. Salty sweat tastes like candy as he drinks in all of Dongho. He revels in the trembles that travel along the surface.

 

“Love me,” he grunts as he drags fingers down the sides of the body below him. He wants to keep taking from the man below him, fill Dongho up and surround him with only himself.

 

Dongho lays spread on cotton sheets, limbs reaching out and covering the expanse. Jonghyun eyes the writhing body with precise intent, maps out every single inch of skin he wants to cover with his senses.

 

He only gets a single whine, a breathy whisper of a name that he can’t stand. He retaliates by reaching a strong hand up to the ivory neck, presses down to halt the words he never wants to hear.

 

_ You’re the only brightness _

 

_ I can’t let go, you’re my only hope _

 

Jonghyun lays on his side on the twin bed he shares with another. He watches the constant breathing haul Dongho’s chest up and push it back down. His tattoos stand dark and muted against the shine of his skin.

 

He reaches his hand out and brushes a wet strand of hair away from Dongho’s face. He trails them down a smooth, cool cheek, down a neck colored purple and red, and rests on a defined collarbone.

 

The skin is so soft, so tantalizing, that he wants to sink his hand deep into the surface. He wants to knead his essence into the man just for a stronger touch.

 

Dongho’s eyes flutter slightly as Jonghyun’s fingers continue pressing soft circles into his skin. He slightly shifts as he’s disturbed.

 

“Jonghyun. .” Dongho’s asleep. He can’t see the quirk of lips. He can’t feel the absolute ecstasy that rolls off Jonghyun as he takes in the whisper. He feels satisfied with his own name for once.

 

Jonghyun spends the whole night watching the even breathing of the man next to him.

 

_ You are my salvation  
_

 

Minhyun walks into the room as Jonghyun practices his dance in front of the mirror. He ignores him. He watches himself instead and how his limber body flows easily from one move to another. 

 

He hears footsteps step up next to him. Jonghyun halts and turns to the man next to him.

 

“Hey, Jonghyun,” Minhyun starts, worry clear on his face. 

 

“Minhyun.” He smiles.  


 

“Can you do me a small favor?” The taller darts his eyes around. “Can you check up on Dongho for me? Just ask him if he’s okay? With me?” Minhyun twists his fingers around, then clasps them tightly around each other.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Ah, well,” Minhyun hesitates, “he’s been avoiding me lately. I was hoping you could talk to him for me.” Jonghyun tilts his head as Minhyun’s worry etches deeper into his face. “I don’t want any problems to come up without both of us knowing.” Ah.  


 

Jonghyun lifts up a hand and places it on a broad shoulder. He squeezes it ~~harshly~~ comfortingly.

 

“Don’t worry, Minhyun-ah.” He’s doing his single job, his rightful responsibility. “I’ll talk to him for you.”

 

Minhyun’s gratefulness snaps onto his face in a second. He smiles handsomely. It itches at Jonhghyun’s nerves.

 

The leader watches as Minhyun thanks him and steps to the side of the room. The vocalist starts stretching, lifts up a leg and pulls at it. He lets out the same groan as always.

 

Jonghyun turns back to the mirror and resumes his dance. He’s already forgotten what Minhyun had asked of him. 

 

Like he’d ever let Dongho slip from his grasp willingly.

 

Jonghyun figures he should hurry and finish the routine. After all, he should get back home to Dongho.  _ His _ Dongho. 

 

_ If I can’t have you, I’d rather ruin you. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @ifwesegno nu'est twt<3


	7. "Fancy", Twice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BaekMin + Fluff
> 
> Dongho fancies Minhyun (Minhyun fancies Dongho).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the president of jbaek rights has risen
> 
> also fancy's lyrics bring the best aesthetic don't fight me on this

_ The colour of the cloud in the sky is tropical _

_ The red colour of the sun is like your two cheeks _

 

Dongho digs his toes into the sand, wiggling them into the cool ground. With sunscreen carelessly covered on his bare skin, he rests his hands behind him and leans back.

 

The sun beats down on the world and plunges them into vermillion, and the sky magically turns into a tropical paradise. 

 

Dongho turns to the side, and Minhyun greets him with a shaped side profile. He has the same sunscreen as Dongho slathered in messy strokes across his body. Minhyun’s bare chest, spotless skin, outstretched legs, Dongho drinks it in like cold juice. Even the red sun’s color reflects on his cheeks, like he’s blushing from the world.

 

_ Oh tell me I’m the only one babe _

_ I fancy you, I fancy you, fancy you _

 

The sun beats down on their golden skin, the wind trails along their hair and ruffles their shorts, the sand buried their hands and feet under its warmth, and Minhyun blends into all of his senses. Minhyun, like the waves, pulls him in so much Dongho wants to splash and play around for the rest of his life right here in this Eden.

 

And he hopes Minhyun feels the same as he does. He hopes Minhyun only has one person on his mind, only one tropical oasis in his dreams, just a single pair of red cheeks and brown eyes that he thinks about every minute and second.

 

God, Dongho hopes Minhyun thinks of him the way he daydreams about Minhyun every waking moment of his day.

 

_ Like sweet chocolate ice cream _

_ My feelings melting now _

 

He feels like ice cream right now, slowly and uncontrollably melting against the heat that is Minhyun. Maybe soon his body will also follow his mushy heart and sink down into the sand to be consumed, and all Minhyun would be able to do is watch in awe at just how much a single person loves him to the point of fading into oblivion.

 

The taste in his mouth suddenly turns to sugar. It’s so sweet and lovely, eating the treat that is his feelings for Minhyun. They stick to his throat, sliding so smoothly down his whole being that he thinks it’ll forever be priceless. Even if Minhyun’s sticky skin glows like the sun shining down on the blue water and the artificial smell of coconut sunscreen breezes past in brief moments, there’s nothing more that fills his perception than just the simple thought of loving a sunburnt Minhyun.

 

_ You there, I fancy you, I don’t want just anyone _

_ Hey I love you _

 

The beach, the waves, the sand, and Minhyun’s hand placed carelessly on top of Dongho’s. It’s a strange and comfortable combination he still isn’t used to. He should be, because all of their fingers feel right intertwined with each other, with Minhyun’s thumb resting on top of his, but it’s still fresh to have another person’s calloused palm rub against his own. 

 

His feelings feel brand new, but they also feel like a history has passed right in his own heart, and it’s just different. It’s just so strange and weird yet a nice comfort to have Minhyun’s hand resting in the lines of his own. There’s no longer the weighing feeling of friendliness between their touches, just the sprouts of something more thrilling and  _ real _ , and Dongho hopes he’ll get used to it for eternity.

 

_ Yes you, I fancy you, you can be happy like a dream, _

_ ’cause I need you _

 

“Hey, Minhyun-ah.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

_ I like you. _

 

“Your hand’s sweaty.”

 

Minhyun turns and flashes a bemused smile at Dongho. He makes a move to slip his fingers out of Dongho’s, but Dongho’s quick to tighten his grip.

 

“It’s not  _ bad _ . I’m just telling you.”

 

Dongho huffs before turning to face the sun once again. A little side eye reveals Minhyun still looking at him, and he’s suddenly glad to be stuck under the hot sky because it’s a way to explain his red cheeks.

 

“Whatever you say, Dongho- _ yah _ .”

 

Minhyun’s fingers slowly wrap back into Dongho’s even tighter than before, and if it was possible, it’s even sweatier than before between the two of them. But Dongho doesn’t mind, and he doesn’t comment anymore. Maybe he’s learned to like it. Both holding hands and Minhyun’s way of calling him ever so bluntly.

 

_ Swim swim, I become a submarine in the sea called you _

_ Everyday is a sweet birthday, your and my fantasy _

 

Minhyun raises a hand up to shield his eyes from the beating sun for just a couple of moments, and he looks out to a clear view of a bright, shining sea. The sun shines directly on his face still, and his nose gleams in such a bright light that it makes Dongho giggle.

 

“What?”

 

Still shielding his eyes, Minhyun glances at Dongho. 

 

“Nothing,” Dongho replies, trying to look inconspicuous even if he remains amused and grinning at the silliest image of Minhyun he’s ever seen. 

 

Minhyun narrows his eyes just slightly before turning them back to the ocean. He looks on with a determined gaze, like he wants to crawl out into the horizon and peer even further into the ever expanding sea. Suddenly, the other man seems not so silly anymore.

 

“You’re cute when you’re focused.”

 

Minhyun barely bats long eyelashes before replying in a heartbeat, “I know. You’re even cuter watching me stay focused.”

 

Dongho mouth turns into an  _ o _ at how absolutely cheesy Minhyun sounds, but he also surprises himself when it worms its way into his chest and reaches his heart. How stupid. The hand not occupied with Minhyun’s digs into the hot sand, scooping up handfuls and throwing it around. 

 

“You look like a child.” 

 

Minhyun sounds even closer to him now, and when Dongho turns back, Minhyun’s face seems  _ way  _ too close than before. Minhyun’s not preoccupied with his view anymore, instead choosing to blink gleaming eyes towards him.

 

Dongho looks away and mutters, “I’m not a child.”

 

A quick glance to Minhyun’s face and the other man’s smiling sweetly at him, complete with crinkled eyes and thin, upturned lips. Damn cute. Dongho reaches a sand-covered hand up to push at Minhyun’s cheek, forcing the other man to break his smile and start laughing.

 

“What the hell, Dongho!” 

 

Dongho grins back as Minhyun wipes away at the sand sticking to his sunscreen-covered face. This is more like it, the ease and familiarity that comes with laughing with Minhyun. It’s not the wildly frantic beating of his heart as Minhyun pushes them just beyond the line of something  _ more _ , even if Dongho somehow manages to like it. 

 

Minhyun gives up wiping at his cheek, and he looks so  _ silly _ sitting there with one side of his face covered in little coarse grains that Dongho starts chuckling in broken, high-pitched giggles. Minhyun sighs teasingly before settling down and turning his body towards Dongho.

 

“Hey, Dongho-yah,” Minhyun leans in quite slowly, letting Dongho lean in too, wondering what the sudden secret could be, “I like you.”

 

Dongho freezes, taking in Minhyun’s abrupt laughter and thrown back head before wrinkling his nose and turning his body back to face the waters. They resume their positions as they always do, Minhyun settling down and grabbing onto Dongho’s hand and peering out into the lonely horizon. Dongho looks down at their joined hands (feeling more and more like a complete puzzle the longer they sit there on their asses) and glances at Minhyun’s side profile.

 

_ I like you too _ .

 

_ Will it suddenly disappear like smoke _

_ Always full of it, I take you in my eyes _

 

The sun’s starting to set now, and so many shades of oranges, reds, pinks, and purples Dongho can’t even begin to name shade over the sky. The gradient of heat drips down like paint droplets on a canvas until the horizon forces sky and ocean to meet and blend. 

 

It’s all changing before their eyes, and it scares Dongho. Even if they haven’t moved from their spots in hours, both of them stuck in the sand and hands forever holding the other, the tropical backdrop doesn’t agree and begins to move down for the night sky’s final act. It scares Dongho, because he knows it can’t always last forever, just them two and their sandy feet resting on golden grains.

 

He wants to stop everything that he knows and press pause on this little clip of his life. He wants to name this snapshot “Golden Glow”, stick it in a photobook, and close it against Time’s hands just to stop her wandering hands from reaching out and claiming it. He wants the bright summer to be forever bathed in orange and red because sitting here with Minhyun by his side is perhaps the happiest moment of his life, and there’s nothing he would ever want more than to  _ stop _ .

 

Dongho’s so scared,  _ terrified _ , of the twinkling stars and the thin crescent moon and the overwhelming void of the night sky because he can’t see Minhyun anymore. If Minhyun walks off into oblivion, leaving the warm piles of sand and most importantly Dongho’s grasp, he won’t ever know it until the sun once again claims its rightful spot and he’ll eventually realize it would be too late. This could all disappear in a second, and there’s nothing a tiny speck of a man can do against the fate he was given, so yes, Dongho remains scared of the night sky.

 

Dongho turns his head for the last time that day and takes the final sip of Minhyun’s ever graceful profile. A sloped nose, red lips, red cheeks, red forehead, and a red glow still adorn his face. The golden hour of the sun is already over, and Minhyun’s exceptionally tan skin turns back into the light honey it was before. Still, he’s beautiful, a worthy picture Dongho takes in with his eyes as if he holds the most expensive camera in just two pupils.

 

_ I become cozy just by thinking _

_ I will secretly hold you from behind and never let you go _

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Nothing,” Dongho muffles into Minhyun’s back as they both stand up with feet shoved into cold sand, “I'm just cold.” 

 

Minhyun’s firm back is still warm from the heat, but he feels it cooling quickly as the sun sets. Dongho presses a sand covered cheek into a shoulder blade, feels it flex against his face as Minhyun turns his head back to peer down at Dongho amusedly. He meets Minhyun’s fond gaze with his own shiny eyes, and they share the tiniest of secrets with just the lifts of the corners of their mouths.

 

“Let’s go back inside then, silly.”

 

Dongho lowers his eyes against it, spots a little red scar in the dip of Minhyun’s shoulder blade, and pouts slightly. If he’s scared of the night sky taking over all that he knows, it’s even worse leaving the place he fell in love with in just a few hours. He tentatively brings his arms up to wrap them around Minhyun’s bare waist, feels the man’s muscles move fluidly underneath to accommodate his embrace.

 

“Don’t wanna.”

 

Minhyun’s stomach fills out then releases quickly as the man sighs into the cool air. Dongho only manages to squeeze his arms even tighter and stuffs his face into Minhyun’s back, unwilling to let the man go. Going means leaving, and leaving means everything changes, and that means he’ll never have this perfect experience ever again.

 

He wants the hot breeze again, he wants the feeling of the sand consuming his feet all over again, he wants to watch the waves overlap one another, and he wants to keep stealing peeks of Minhyun’s handsome, familiar side profile as their palms sweat from constant contact. He wants to stay in this beautiful month that is August, the month of never ending sun and beach, the infamous time where summer stretches on and on like a carpet and problems somehow drift away like wood in the ocean.

 

“Dongho…”

 

Dongho furiously shakes his head, probably rubbing all the sand on his cheek onto Minhyun’s coconut-smelling sticky back. He can’t leave, and he won’t leave.

 

“Let’s stay here instead.”

 

Dongho falters. A warm set of hands places themselves over his on Minhyun’s stomach. They overlap his, taking ahold of his hands and pulling them off until they rest back against Dongho’s sides. Minhyun turns around, faces Dongho head on, and he’s not annoyed or tired. He’s smiling. 

 

Indulging.

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Dongho almost cries when Minhyun pulls him into his broad chest with a strong hold. Because this is why he loves Minhyun so much. This is why he wants to spend the rest of his life with just him. 

 

The smell of coconut is even stronger when Dongho’s nose is pressed into Minhyun’s neck instead, and there’s even a faint hint of just  _ Minhyun _ (His sweat? His skin? It doesn’t matter). Dongho brings his arms up to wrap around Minhyun once again, and they stand there under the fading light, hugging and sharing skin.

 

“Thanks, Minhyun-ah.” -- _ for indulging in my unrealistic fantasies and for putting up with my idealistic daydreams. For loving me as I am. _

 

And Dongho can’t see it, his face still snuggled into the dip between Minhyun’s soft neck and collarbone, but Minhyun smiles so damn fondly out into the sunset you would think he was in love with the setting sun itself. But no, it’s just Dongho. He’s in love with Dongho.

 

_ I fancy you _

_ I love you _

 

And Minhyun gets it. He gets the little side glances when Dongho thinks that peripheral vision doesn’t exist and chooses to blatantly stare at Minhyun like he’s watching his  favorite television show. He gets the subtle shifting of fingers to relieve the sweaty rubbing of their palms because it gets so nerve-wracking being able to hold hands with the one you like. He gets everything Dongho does because it’s what he does as well.

 

And he also understands Dongho’s distaste for change. 

 

It’s not like he hated his time with Dongho. He never could. It was so nice, being able to sit right next to Dongho and mindlessly relax under hot scarlet and crimson blankets while the slow water rolls towards them, holding his hand, and just  _ looking _ at him. It was too peaceful for them, and it felt like the world faded into nothingness from there on, and it was just two of them occupying planet Earth. 

 

It was nice just being with Dongho.

 

But he’d also like to experience the mute night with Dongho, hidden in a little get-away under the cover of midnight. Each passing moment brings new experiences with his lover, and Minhyun anxiously awaits for each scene to come. He lives in his own movie, is his own director, and he wants to keep writing the script that follows the happy ending for both of them. 

 

Unlike Dongho who looks at him with sparkling puppy eyes, begging Minhyun to stay for just that much longer next to the ocean, Minhyun wants to counter with his own shining desire to move forwards. It’s nice to keep that moment with Dongho in his heart, but he wants to create a never ending slideshow from now on. 

 

Maybe they’ll head down to the coast for iced drinks next, or maybe they’ll drive up back to Seoul and lounge in their apartment for the weekend. Minhyun doesn’t really know (nor does he care) but all he wants is to keep seeing the blur of their surroundings as they walk hand in hand to the next paradise.

 

But, Minhyun gets it. And he can’t disappoint his own lover. Ever. So, he takes Dongho into the tightest of hugs, presses the faintest kiss on top of his head (inhaling the sharp scent of salt and coconut), and heads back down to the shoreline. Even when stars begin to dot the sky and create puzzles for their eyes to figure out, and even when the moon hangs on a tiny string, barely standing out against the night, Minhyun lets Dongho stay in their little tropical moment. He pauses time as they know it for Dongho and intertwines their hands again just as he did hours ago, because that’s what Dongho wants.

 

And he loves Dongho.

 

In the end, he would do anything for Dongho because he fancies him.

 

_ Fancy you,  _

_ I will come to you now _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twt @ifwithoutlove
> 
> also ily mins


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